


Simple Man

by Heavenlea6292



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Backstory, Big family, Jo/gordon, Slight Canon Divergence, big brother figure, jo/ash, little sister figure
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-24
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-02 12:17:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1056674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heavenlea6292/pseuds/Heavenlea6292
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ash leaves behind a series of videos for Jo after his death, telling her about his closely guarded past, his entrance to hunting, and reminiscing his time with Jo and Ellen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Call Me The Breeze

_Well now they call me the breeze, I keep blowin' down the road.- Mr. Breeze, Lynyrd Skynyrd  
_

* * *

She tossed her hair behind her shoulder as Ellen slid the laptop across the table to her. She looked up at her with hesitant eyes, and down at the screen. Her hands flew up to her mouth, tears prickling in her eyes.  
It had only been a few days since the Roadhouse was burnt down, and when her mother called, she’d packed everything and drove two days to get back to her. Nothing else mattered anymore, not their petty fights, not Jo’s grudges. It all burnt with her second home.

“I can’t watch it,” she said softly, shaking her head. She could feel her world stop spinning for the second time in the past week as she stared at the screen. She felt Ellen’s hand squeeze her shoulder gently, her own hand flying up to squeeze it as her breath tightened in her chest. Ellen kissed her daughter’s forehead before she rose from the table.

“Take all the time you need, baby.”

She pulled the computer closer, her knees curled under her chin as she cuddled into the oversized, ratty MIT hoodie, clicking the fullscreen button, then play.

* * *

“What’s up? Ash here, and if you’re watching this, I’m dead. In which case, before we proceed, I have two things to say: SO LONG SUCKERS. Oh, and a toast to whatever mother fucker managed to kill me. You have killed the unkillable, so have some PBR on me. I also recommend that you visit the Presidential Scientific Advisory Committee, ‘cause I went to MIT with most of them and those bastards hated me. Bet you could squeeze a couple bucks outta those tight asses. It’ll warm their fat asses up at night to know that the smartest man in America is dead. “  
Ash paused, reaching over and taking a swig from the beer next to him.  
“Oh, Ellen- I’m assuming whoever killed me did it in the Roadhouse, so I’m kinda sorry about that. Ah, remember that hydrogen peroxide dissolves blood so that should help with the mess- Oh, and bleach the hell outta it.  
If you’re watching this, you’ll notice that the hunter’s websource hasn’t been updated and no new posts have been approved. It’ll probably take about three days before this thing is up and running again- I handed it off to a guy I know, and don’t worry, he’s a good dude, he’s got this. You guys will all be up to date, just like always.  
Ah, well, everyone got a copy of my super-secret Dr. Badass software for dummies in a private email that I assigned you when you joined the hunter site. If you don't know what an email is, get your younger and more intelligent counterpart to take care of it. If you do not have a younger and more intelligent counterpart, call Sam Winchester at the number at the bottom of the screen now. He can help you gitr' done. He may be an ex-lawyer but we won't hold that against you. By the way, Sam- you're welcome, that’s for fucking cleanin me outta 500 bucks at darts!” 

Ash stopped again, laughing out loud and leaning back in his chair, his arms folded behind his head. 

“You’ll also notice that many of you have received a video file in those e-mails, my little personal goodbyes and all the information on whatever cases you had me on in the past and if I had one that was ongoing. I always keep copies for my own records, and now you can have ‘em. They’ll all be uploaded to a new section of the site, where y’all can just type in a keyword and BAM! List of past cases. You’re all welcome, and don’t ever say I didn’t do anything for you suckers.”

He sat forward, his face close to the camera with a wide smirk.

“Call me Mr. Breeze, I’m blowin down the road,” he said with a wink, “Catch ya later, Dr. Badass is signing off.”

* * *

Jo’s hands shook as she typed in her email, opening it to see a new message from Ash. She clicked it open, downloading the nine video files that he had sent.  
All the e-mail said was “IMPORTANT!!! WATCH IN ORDER!!!”  
She nodded, even though she knew he couldn’t see her, promising to watch them in order. She opened the file folder holding them, selecting them all and setting them up to play one after another. She didn’t think she’d have the courage any other way.

She picked up the laptop, walking over to the bed and curling up in a ball before pressing play.


	2. Sweet Home Alabama

“Hey Jojo. I see ya got my e-mail, and you’re actually listening. Does it feel weird, actually listening to me for once?” Ash asked, laughing a little, “Well, babygirl, Let me start by telling you that you’ve gotten way more videos than anyone- even your ma. Don’t tell her- she’ll probably summon me from the dead and kick my ass. Your Ma was always all over me like ugly on a hog, and I don’t see that goin and changing just cause I’m dead. But that’s beside the point. Point is, Jojo, I wanna tell you a story. It’s kinda sad and funny at the same time, like when we used to watch your dad cook. I’m getting off track- you were always throwin me off track, damn you. Don’t you dare laugh at me, girl, I’m dead, show me some damn respect!

Every good story has a beginning, right? Well, my story begins on the night of October 31st, 1976. I know, ain’t it funny? Born under a bad sign, babygirl. Born in the Witchin’ Hour in a tiny bayou town called Nenemoosha, Alabama. Yup, where good old Mostly-Okay Martin and I went on our first hunt; but hey, that’s later. It’s this little, barely-there town that no one ever comes to and no one ever leaves, and that’s the way folks like it. Outsiders ain’t wanted, freaks ain’t wanted, and there’s nothing quite like being both. 

I was born Miles Jean Baptiste, the most obnoxiously southern name there ever was, don’t you laugh, I know you always laugh at my name when you think I ain’t listenin. There’s a reason I always made ya call me Ash…but that’s another story for later. There were five of us, and I was the middle child. Cletus Jean, Jedediah Jean, Me, Nora Beth and Lara Sue, the baby. Then there was Ma and Da. We lived in a tiny little house on about an acre of land, a good two miles away from the bayou, and y’know, that was my home man. I loved it there…well, aside from Cletus and Lara Sue. Growing up the middle child was kinda hard, but in some ways it was real nice. I always had someone to play with, and no one was allowed to knock the snot outta me but Clet. It was a simple life, and I never knew any better, but hellfire was in me. I wanted to know better. I wanted the whole fuckin world, more than anythin. 

Ma…let me tell ya about my Ma, Jojo. My Ma was the prettiest lady in town, and she was the prettiest girl when she was young too. The ladies ‘round town used to say she married beneath her when she married Da, and I can’t say I disagreed, but they’d also say that he was the only one who’d take her. She was the sweetest woman that ever lived, but damn did she have a temper. I don’t know how many times my ass was gettin kissed by the business end of her spoon, but she never did it unless I was really causin’ hell. She was an angel, I swear, and when my Ma told me she loved me, I could feel it from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. She loved me, baby girl. Like no one else ever could. The way your Mama loves you. 

Ma used to tell me she felt like time stopped when she gave birth to me, she said she knew I was somethin special. I always told her it wasn’t cause I was special, it was cause I didn’t have as fat of a head as my brothers. She always smacked me in the head for that, but I think she thought it was pretty funny, laughin and tellin me that it was less about my stupid head and more about my stupid heart. She told me that I had her heart, and damn if that wasn’t my downfall. 

See, my Ma was an outsider- she’d grown up there, but she just up and ran away when she was 14. Ma always told me that she had her reasons, and that those were the same reasons we didn’t know her Ma and Pa. She came crawlin back 3 months later, but she was marked as an outsider from then on. That’s why she had to settle for my Da. Da was a lot older than Ma, and I never realized how young Ma was till I met you- you know, the first time I kissed you, you were the same age my Ma was when she had Clet. The part that scared me most was, the distance between was 11 years…and it was the same distance between my Ma and Da. That’s why things turned out the way they did that time. If I could take it back…not the kiss, but the way I acted, I would. Hell, coulda, woulda, shoulda, eh? 

Then there was Da. It’s weird, I don’t really remember my Da too well, only that he was always workin and when he wasn’t workin he was yelling at us. He used to yell, “Goddamn it, you fuckin’ kids!” We joked that Clet was Goddamn, Jed was it, I was you, Nora was fuckin, and Lara was kids. We didn’t see him much, unless we were runnin’ past him to go outside or at the dinner table. This was fine by me, man. Da was always screamin at Ma and I couldn’t stand that, y’know? Ma always told me if I hit a girl or yelled at her she’d turn my ass to grass, and seeing Da treat her like that always pissed me off; so when Ma would kick us outta the house when Da was home, I was fine with that. I didn’t answer to nobody outside, as long as I got my chores done, Ma didn’t care as long as I wasn’t breakin the law or breakin the Commandments. Of course, I never really told her how often I was breakin both, sometimes at the same time. Half outta fear, half outta guilt, y’know? She didn’t need to hear about me bein the shitty kid Da always told her we kids were. She wanted to believe her Miles was a good, Christian boy. Who was I to tell her otherwise? 

My little sisters were my whole world, honestly. They were my playmates, my partners in crime and goddamn were they useful. Usually, Nora Beth and Lara Sue would follow me wherever I went, cause Jed and Clet didn’t want us kids taggin along behind ‘em and crampin their style, but hey, we didn’t need them- we had our own fun without them. I liked trappin, and there wasn’t a damn person in four counties who could dismantle a trap faster than Nora Beth, her little fingers quicker than a damn hummingbird. I always loved the look on her face when she held out the animal, her big blue eyes lightin up. You look kinda like her- I dunno what that says about me- All blonde waves like my Ma and big doe eyes. Nora Beth was the sweetest thing, quiet too- and she’d cover my ass in a minute to keep me outta trouble. 

Then there was Lara. Me and Lara never saw eye to eye, though that may have something to do with the fact that I used to do this singsong thing where I’d yell, “Lara Sue shit in a shoe!” Don’t ask me why I did that. Don’t ask me why it made her mad. I have no idea. But Lara was just like Clet, except a girl. She had this wild brown hair and her eyes were almost black, that’s how dark they were, just like Da’s. Lara usually got underfoot, unless we were hoggin. Lara was a little brute when it came to hoggin, I saw her take down a young hog when she was about six and she didn’t even break a sweat, so that should give you an idea of what she could do to a lanky ass kid like me. Once, when we were wrestling, she dislocated my shoulder and laughed about it. 

Cletus Jr was the meanest one outta all of us, just like Da. He used to kick all us kids around, but he liked kickin me around the most. I guess there was something about my face he didn’t like cause he certainly tried to rearrange it enough times. Maybe it was because I was smarter than him. But to be fair, Clet kicked the shit outta everyone. Dunno why, he just liked hittin people, I guess. Everything about Clet was big, his head, his hands, his body, his fuckin ego. He was that guy who’d sit on you and rub your face in dirt when he got tired of swingin. Honestly, it’s been over a decade since I seen him and I bet he’s still like that. Hell, I wouldn’t be much surprised if he did it to his own kids. Always had more muscle than mind.

Jedediah was the quietest outta all of us. He never really talked, never really took sides, you never really knew if Jed was all there because he’d just stare off into space and block everyone out. Clet usually drug Jed everywhere with him, using him as a lackey and an excuse whenever he could. Jed was just…this rail thin, short, quiet kid. He had Ma’s blue eyes and Da’s brown hair and unlike anyone in the family, he had this way of just…staring through people. I never liked bein around Jed too much. Felt like I was walkin around with a ghost. 

I spent a whole helluva lotta time avoidin my family- fishin, trappin, spending a shitton of time at school. I was too smart for my own good, and in a town like Neeneemoosha, that wasn’t really a good thing. See, I was a freak around those parts because I wasn’t just smart- I liked learning. I know people think that Southerners bein a bunch of dumb hicks is kinda a stereotype, but where I lived it wasn’t. They were smart people- they could tear an engine apart and put it back together like it was nothing, they could tell you every bird, fish and animal there was, but most of ‘em thought school was just a waste of good time, time they didn’t have to waste. 

I learned how to read when I was about four, at least that’s what Ma said. Honestly, I don’t even remember a time I couldn’t read- just always could, and man did I read everything. Magazines, Labels, Books, signs, instructions- if it had letters and sentences, I wanted to read it. Ma noticed I had already gone through everything in the house, including the damn bible, and she asked me what I was doin with all them books. 

“Readin,” I told her. Ma laughed, folding her arms.   
“Oh yeah, lil boy?” she asked , grinning like a damn Cheshire cat, “Whatcha like best about the bible, then?”   
“Genesis,” I told her, “I wanna make stuff like God did. I wanna build stuff.”   
“You wanna build stuff?” she asked, crouching in front of me. I nodded, and I swear her smile got a thousand times bigger. “Well, guess I’m just gonna have to find ya stuff to fix.”   
“Ma,” I whined, “I dun wanna fix, I wanna build!”   
“Ya can’t build until ya know how to fix,” she replied, “I got some old books in the attic stuffed in a box about electricity. You wanna read that?”   
“Yeah, but whatcha want me to fix, Ma?”   
“Nothin yet, eager beaver,” she said, going back to the stove, “But you read them books, maybe you can fix my old radio.” 

And I did. At first, all I did was fuss around with Ma’s old appliances around the house, I even fixed the TV when Da kicked it and it just wouldn’t turn on anymore. Ma told me I had real talent, so I decided to do what any enterprising kid would- I started offerin to fix people’s shit. I’d pull old radios and clocks out of the trash, fix ‘em up and sell em. Everyone knew that I could fix just about anything, and I had a huge jar of coins and bills buried under the porch where I’d stuff all the money I made. Nora Beth used to sit under there with me, watchin me. 

“Whatcha buryin all the money for, Miles?” she asked.   
“Later.”   
“What for?”   
“Ain’t you got nothing better to do, Nora Beth?” I snapped at her. She scootched her little butt across the dirt, pressin against my side.   
“Nah,” she whispered, “Ain’t nobody wanna play with me. Just you.”   
“Ain’t Lara Sue playin wth you?” I demanded. She just sighed.   
“Lara Sue is big ‘nuff to play with the other kids now. She ain’t got time for me.” 

What do you say to your sister when she’s as much of an outcast in your family as you are? How do you make her feel better when you know that there just isn’t a damn thing that’ll help, Jojo? Broke my heart, hearing her sound so sad. You sounded just like that when you told me you didn’t fit in at college, broke my heat then too. So I just drug Nora Beth everywhere with me. Taught her to read better than that stupid fuckin school, taught her how to use her quick little fingers to fix things with me. She was smart as a whip, picked up on shit faster than the speed of light. Soon, she had her own jar buried on the opposite end of the porch, savin up her money too for ‘later’, whenever that was gonna be for us. 

 

There was one boy in town who was always fixin cars, Lawrence was his name- and he saw me and Nora Beth runnin through town and pickin through the trash every day. He’d always wave to us, offer us cokes, and we’d sit on the cinderblocks in his yard while he tinkered around in whatever car was there that week.   
One day, he didn’t even think about it, sayin, “Hey, Miles, grab my ratchet, would ya?” I hopped off my cinderblock and grabbed it, bringin it over and look in the car. He took it, breaking the nut he was tryin to get to and then he stopped, lookin at me. 

“You wanna learn, peewee?” he asked with a grin. I was so fuckin excited- something else I could fix, one step closer to bein able to build like Ma told me I could.   
“Hell yeah I do!” I yelled, pointin at Nora Beth, “Can Nora Beth learn too?” He got this weird look on his face, one of his eyebrows goin up.   
“She a girl,” he said, pointin at her with the ratchet, “She can’t fix no cars.”   
“I can’t neither til ya teach me,” I said. He gave me this goofy grin, shrugging.   
“Hell, why not? Nora Beth, get your scrawny butt over here!” he yelled, waving her over, “Gonna teach ya a lil something bout cars.”

Every day we were out at Lawrence’s, learning about cars and fixin them, drinkin cokes and listening to music. Lawrence was a guy a lot of people knew and liked real well, but they all thought he had weird ass taste in lotsa stuff, specially music. See, we was all used to music like Muscle Shoals, Skynyrd, stuff like that. But he used to listen to them crooners like Frank Sinatra and Nat King Cole and the Ink Spots. He’d always tease on Nora Beth, singin to her as we cleaned parts, grinning at her. He was always singin “Jeepers Creepers” to her, teasin on how big her eyes were. She’d always giggle at him and he’d say, “Hey, Peewee, whatcha think? Ain’t they bigger than two dinna plates?”   
I’d laugh with him, and tell him they was always the biggest eyes I’d ever seen.   
There were times we’d just sleep on his couch, leave from his house for school. It was easier for Ma that way, two less heads to be worryin about, and she liked Lawrence a lot. 

“Y’all ain’t been home ina week,” she said one day when me and Nora Beth came scurryin through the door, “You two ain’t overstayin your welcome with Lawrence, is you?”   
“Nah Ma,” I said, shakin my head, “Nora Beth just needs clean clothes. We washed up at Lawrence’s after we was workin on Jimmy Hough’s pickemup.”   
She nodded, always sendin us with some food for Lawrence. Everyone kinda felt bad for Lawrence, his Da died in the war and his Ma got sick an died too- so Ma went outta her way to be good to him. We’d all fall asleep on his couch, listenin to Snoopy and the Red Baron on his record player. He and Nora Beth loved that damn record, and I never had the heart to tell em how much I hated the damn thing. 

We’d wake up to the smell of coffee fillin the little ass house of his, the sounds of the Inkspots and his own voice driftin out. He’d be bangin around the kitchen, his bare feet slappin against the floor, his robe flappin like a pair of wings behind him.  
“I love coffee, I love tea,” he’d croon, carrying out two chipped mugs and holdin them out, “I love tha java java an’ it loves me. Up an at em, squirts. Y’all gotta go get ya some learnin.”   
He’d always fix it with a ton of milk and sugar for me an Nora Beth, and a “secret ingredient”. We found out he’d put a spoon of Ovaltine in it, to make it less bitter, and it’s the way I drink my coffee to this day. You know that- you make fun of me for it all the time. Well, know you know why. Ol’ Lawrence taught me that. 

We’d leave from his house after we had our “java”, getting to school early and just sittin together in front of the door. See, me and Nora Beth were the only kids who really took school seriously. Me and Nora Beth got into all sortsa trouble, cause people was always pickin fights with us. Me cause I was white trash, Nora Beth cause she liked talkin too damn much. Anyone who came anywhere near Nora got to have a conversation with my fists, and I spent more time getting kicked outta class than I did in it. Which made it so funny when they called my Ma.   
See, they called my Ma down to the school cause they didn’t know what to do with me. I was ahead of all the kids in my school, and the teachers got so mad they made me take a high school test. Well, I aced it and they were all shocked. So they told Ma they wanted to send me to the big kid’s school, the high school. Ma didn’t mind- she was real proud. But she didn’t want Da to know- so I wasn’t s’posed to tell anyone. 

See, I was always a genius, Jojo. But that was just the beginning.


End file.
